


Friends

by betaadamantium



Series: Alloy [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, Pre-Relationship, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betaadamantium/pseuds/betaadamantium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night out with the team, Logan makes sure Tony gets home safe. They have a conversation that brings them a little closer, or at least allows them to understand each other a little better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Follows "Teammates" chronologically. Yes, I'm futzing with other chronology and the space-time continuum by mentioning _Mallrats_. I don't care. It was amusing.

Tony had a bit of a drinking problem but at least he was good for a few laughs when he was blitzed. Even better when he crawled his shaky way up onto their table in the bar and starting singing along to "Free Bird" on the jukebox.

"Geddown from there, ya dumbass," Logan said, grabbing at Tony's ankles and actually missing when the drunk man moved out of the way. "Yer drawin' attention we don't need."

"Jus' 'cause Peter's a pansy doesn't mean I can't sing if I wanna," Tony drawled. He meant Peter Parker, and since the rest of the world knew who the Avengers were (and Spider-Man was the only one who hadn't revealed his alter-ego), it wouldn't be too hard to put two-and-two together when a bunch of the Avengers got together for beers.

"Thanks, Tony, I love you, too, man." Peter threw a handful of peanuts at him, catching Tony off guard and making him stumble so that he took a header off the table.

Logan caught him before he did too much damage, moving quickly enough to be a blur to Tony, who was having trouble following things correctly. "Sit down before ya hurt yerself, idiot," he said, pushing Tony back into his chair.

"Screw you, Mr. She-Thinks-My-Tractor's-Sexy. I'm havin' fun."

"How 'bout I don't and say I did. And what the hell did you just call me?"

"It's a country song," Clint Barton said. "Surprised you didn't know that one, bumpkin."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Bub, I'm Canadian."

"Got rednecks up in Canada, too, eh?" Peter put in.

Tony snickered into his beer. He liked it when people poked fun at Logan, especially since Logan never really seemed to care.

"Shut up or I'll beat yer ass with my hockey stick," Logan shot back.

"Tha's a euph—eupha— other word for his dick," Tony offered helpfully.

Logan snorted. "Ya think about my hockey stick a lot, Flyboy?"

Tony grinned drunkenly. "Ya wave it around an awful lot, kinda hard not t' notice."

The Canadian smirked. "Gotta mark my territory, bub, or some princess like you thinks he owns the place."

"I  _do_  own the place, hoser. Half expect ya t' start peeing on things one o' these days."

"This conversation is going to an uncomfortable place," Peter said, sliding his chair further away from the two of them.

"What, like the back of a Volkswagon?"

Tony spluttered, nearly choking on his beer. "Did you jus' make a Mallrats joke?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "Please, I do watch movies. Especially when some idiot makes a reference to me."

"So Tony's the one really hung up on super heroes' sex organs?" Clint asked.

"Apparently, you've seen how he is around Natasha an' Carol." Logan looked over at Tony who was now pillowing his head on his arms and appeared to be asleep. He poked him. "Stark."

"Five more minutes, Mom."

"Ah, hell. Stark's out." He looked at his watch. "I'll get 'im home, I guess."

Cap overheard and asked, "You sure, Logan? It's out of your way."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Got stuff to do in the mornin' and I don't wanna spoil yer fun." He grabbed Tony's arm and shook it. "C'mon, Princess, time to go home and get yer beauty rest."

Tony blinked up at him, eyes glazed over. "Wha...? Havin' fun, L'gan, wanna stay an' have fun."

"Ya passed out, Tin Man. I'll take ya home so yer robot friend can take care of ya." He hauled Tony to his feet, getting the shorter man's arm over his shoulder and his own arm around Tony's back. "See ya later," he said to the group, hearing the chorus of "thanks" and "see ya."

It was a strange position to be in, considering how they'd started out. Months ago Logan wouldn't have pissed on Tony had he been on fire but now he found he actually enjoyed the billionaire's company more than some of the X-Men (mostly just Scott). They still bickered like they hated each other but he had Tony's back and Tony had his and everything was fine. The blowup the night they'd gotten back from stealing the specs still came back to him from time to time and he wondered if Tony still thought of it.

He got him home in one piece to Stark's New York penthouse. JARVIS let him in with nary a complaint, actually thanking him for his generosity. The AI still kind of creeped him out, like having a real person around that you couldn't actually see, or smell. JARVIS also handled a lot of the things at Avengers HQ so Logan had more than enough interaction with the AI; he was just glad he didn't have to live with it.

"Where's the bathroom?" he asked when Tony started making 'I'm gonna puke' noises.

"Down the hall, first door on your left, sir," JARVIS replied in his smooth English accent. Guess all butlers were English, right?

"Thanks." Logan double-timed it, getting Tony in just seconds before it was too late. He grimaced and was grateful he didn't have to hold Tony's hair back like he would with a girl as he leaned against the door frame. "Ya alright, Stark?"

Tony mumbled something and threw up again, head bowed over the toilet. "I hate this part," he said once his stomach had emptied itself.

"Wouldn't happen if ya didn't get drunk so much."

"You try running a Fortune 500 company and we'll see if you don't develop a drinking problem." For all he'd been slurring earlier he sounded much more clear-minded now. He lurched to his feet and reached for the glass by the sink, running water so he could wash his mouth out. His face in the mirror was pale, his dark, bloodshot eyes standing out more than usual. "And it's only a problem if you need help."

"Oh, right, sure." Logan nodded like that made sense before rolling his eyes, watching as Tony reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out mouthwash. "Whatever it is, Tony, it ain't worth drinkin' yerself to death over."

Tony stood up straight from spitting out a mouthful of cinnamon-flavored liquid . "Did you just call me Tony? Not Flyboy? Not Tin Man?"

Logan smirked. "Could call ya Princess again, if ya want."

Tony stared at him, wondering why it meant so much to him that Logan would actually use his name. He knew the nicknames were Logan's own version of affection, if that was even the right word for it; if he had a nickname for you, you meant something to him, Tony had picked up on that much. Of course, there were no other men that Logan ever called 'Princess,' and Tony had no clue what the hell that meant.

"No, that's okay. Just ... I didn't expect it."

Logan shrugged. "Gotta be serious sometimes, bub. Yer company really that much of a hassle?" He wasn't the insensitive clod most people assumed he was and if a buddy was hurting he was good at listening.

Tony nodded, pushing past him to head back into the spacious living room. He took off his leather jacket and tossed it onto the coffee table before flopping onto the couch in a loose sprawl. "The board's pressing for more control since I'm working with the Avengers more often, they think my head's not in the game, not on the company. My VP thinks I'm drinking too much, which yeah, he's right but I can still fucking do my job."

"But they don't like the publicity ya got from outin' yerself as Iron Man."

"Two years ago, they need to shut up already. Stock shot up at that point and I'm not going to let them tell me it hasn't stayed steady since then. Just because we're not making weapons anymore doesn't mean my name isn't still on the side of the damn building."

Logan sat down on the couch a few feet away, long legs stretched in front of him and his arms crossed over his chest. "Isn't there some company wantin' to buy ya out?"

Tony made a sound that was very much like a growl. "Hammer Industries. They're still in weapons and the board wants me to accept it so that I can 'pursue other interests.'"

"Meanin' 'get bent and let them make more money.' Ya got a shitty job even if ya do have more money than God."

"Which isn't doing me much good at this point. The money I could get from selling the company is astronomical but it's  _my_  company. It was my father's and I'm not selling it just to make some stuffed-shirts feel better about their stock portfolios."

Logan grinned at him. "That sounds like the Tony Stark I know. Fuck 'em, man, keep doin' yer job well and they'll have nothin' to bitch about."

Tony couldn't say why those words touched him. Some days he worried he was going crazy, some nights he woke up in a cold sweat wondering if he'd fucked up taking Stark Industries in this direction, if he'd fucked up outing himself as Iron Man. Before Afghanistan he'd never lost a night of sleep, never had a second thought or misgiving about any part of his life. Back then he'd been called the Merchant of Death and he hadn't cared because he had money and cars and women and what the hell else could he have needed?

Waking up in that horrid cave with a car battery keeping him alive had made him re-evaluate everything. It had also nearly gotten him killed when Obadiah Stane decided he didn't like Tony's actually literal change of heart. He'd been different from that point on, more sure of himself but also a hell of a lot more haunted.

"Thanks," he said quietly, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. He looked down at his feet when he spoke. "For that, and for bringing me home. I know you and I didn't get off on the right foot and I'm grateful we haven't had to kill each other yet." He looked up finally, a small smile on his face, and he found Logan smiling back at him. It was definitely a moment.

"Wasn't for lack of tryin' on yer part, pal. Ya got a mouth on ya and I think ya like the sound o' yer own voice." It wasn't said in malice. Logan found Stark amusing more often than not; he wasn't sure when that had started happening.

Tony smirked. "Guilty as charged. What good is having such witty and intelligent thoughts if I can't share them? Gotta spread the love, brother."

"If ya call that love I sure as hell don't wanna see what happens when ya hate someone." Logan glanced at his watch and got to his feet. "I gotta get goin', Tony. Got a plane to catch in the mornin.'"

Tony rose as well. "Oh?"

"Goin' to Japan for a couple weeks. Spent some time there years ago and figured I'd visit again, see what's changed and what's still the same." See if the same ghosts, the same scents, still haunted the streets.

Tony noticed the change in humor but didn't poke fun at it like he usually would. "Hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thanks." He meant it. "See ya in a couple weeks, Stark. Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone."

"Don't piss off the Yakuza while you're there."

Logan chuckled and gave a half-assed salute as he left by the front door.

"That was certainly an interesting night." Tony shrugged to himself and headed downstairs.


End file.
